Hatred

It's late.
She's tired.
Wish she could sleep.
Can't.
The pounding footsteps sound outside the door.
She hears the slamming of the basement door open, and shutters.
He comes down the stairs.
He carries a bottle of whisky, along with a cigarette in the other.
She gasps in pain as his foot violently touches her stomach.
When the tortures down, he retreats upstairs.
She closes her tear filled eyes, hoping tomorrow doesn't come.
But, it does, and her father repeats the same pain with his feet, hands, bottles, and cigarettes.

A/N: Help prevent child abuse! If you or someone you know it being abused, contact a teacher, counselor, etc.